I Could Never Hate You
by MountainAir
Summary: "Being here in Peeta's arms, I feel a new appreciation for the suffering. Because with it, came this." What would happen if one morning, Peeta woke up and the hijacking no longer affected him? Takes place in Mockingjay.
1. Chapter 1

**Here's something that I hope everyone enjoys. I've been thinking for a while that I need to write something like this, to get over the sadness for Katniss and Peeta that I felt when he was hijacked. I hope it makes you guys feel better, like it did for me! Review!**

I lie awake, staring at the ceiling of the bedroom they're keeping me in. I try and clear my head, to block out the horrible memories and facts that are trying to consume me. But it doesn't work too well, because as hard as I try, the only thought I can be brought back to right now is that Peeta will never be the same. He will never be the boy with the bread ever again.

I feel wetness on my face, and realize that I'm crying. I wish now that I had let myself feel for Peeta what I had been holding in, too afraid of love to let myself believe in it. But I know now that the act I've been keeping up on television is more real than we thought - than I thought, even.

But now it's too late. He's gone.

The man the Capitol has left for me isn't the one I knew before - he's nothing like him at all. He will never have the same soft, light glow to his eyes, or the same laugh. He will never be able to wrap his arms around me and send away the nightmares, because now, he will be the source of them.

I take in a shaky breath, closing my eyes. I want to run away from everything that is happening to me, and from everything that _will _happen to me. I know from experience that things can only get worse for me, and I don't want to be here to witness it all.

All I see behind my eyelids is blackness, and I take comfort in the simplicity of it. With my eyes closed, I can pretend that the world isn't crashing down around me. I can pretend that Peeta was never hijacked, that he never tried to kill me, and that he never yelled terrible accusations at me - accusations I can't even bear to think of.

This is how I will spend my time now, instead of letting the weight on my chest drive me to insanity - if this isn't insanity in itself. I will just lie here with my eyes closed, shutting off the world and everyone around me.

The only person that could possibly pull me out from this is gone. So why bother trying anymore? Why bother to fight, when I know that I won't be able to keep myself together? The Rebellion might as well be handed over to someone more capable. Clearly, I was never put out for this kind of life if I can't handle heartbreak.

I hear the door open, and a stream of brightness cuts across the blackness I was trying to consume myself in. I don't acknoledge the person who has just entered my bedroom, because I don't want to see anyone right now. Even having Prim here would make things worse.

"Leave me alone," I whisper. I'm not sure if any real sound has left my mouth, and I don't care.

It's quiet for a few minutes, and I wonder if he or she heard me and left, before the person responds.

"Katniss," he says. His voice sounds so broken, and so pained, that I almost believe for a second that this is real.

I freeze. Did I fall asleep after all? This must be some kind of awful dream, a dream that will just make me miss the boy he used to be even more.

I roll over in bed, squeezing a pillow over my ears to block out his voice. But it's not long before the pillow is yanked from my hands, and my eyes pop open against my will. Blue eyes stare back at mine from right beside me. _He _is standing beside the bed, looking down at me with so much sorrow and fear that I want to look away.

But I can't. Because his eyes don't burn into mine like lazers, and his face isn't twisted into discust. Instead, he has tears running down his face, leaving marks as they descend.

He whispers my name again, and I can't seeing him like this anymore. I don't care if this is all a dream, and I'll wake up tomorrow missing him even more. All I care about is that at this moment, I can pretend none of it happened, that he was never yanked away from me.

I reach my hand out to him, and he takes it in his own. His real hand, touching my own. With real bones and real skin and real everything.

"...Peeta?" I whisper. "Am I still asleep?"

He doesn't answer me, and I look up at him. His eyes have a panicked look in them, like he's trying to remember something but he can't. "What happened to me?"

At this moment, instead of crying even harder and feeling broken, I almost smile.

Because if he doesn't remember, then that means the hijacking wasn't permanent after all. It means that we still have hope.

"Peeta, you don't remember?" I ask softly.

His head moves from side to side in alarm. "I... I remember the arena exploding... and hovercrafts grabbing me and taking me away. I remember being so scared... so scared for you, because I didn't know if you were okay!" His eyes are wider than I've ever seen them. "Then I woke up, in a white room, and they were torturing me. But then they'd bring in needles, but I didn't know what was in them. I would have nightmares, and they would never end. You..."

His shakes his head and pulls his eyebrows together in frustration. I can tell that he's trying his hardest to remember.

"They tried to make me hate you... but... I could never hate you," he finally finishes.

_I could never hate you..._ his words repeat in my head, and the tears come down faster, this time in relief.

His sits down on the bed and pulls me closer. I crawl into his lap and bury my face in his chest, breathing in the scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon, the smell that is always on him, no matter where we are. I decide right then and there that it is my favorite scent in the world.

"I thought I lost you," I choke, biting my lip to try and stop the hiccup noises that I make when I cry.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," he says, pressing his face into my hair.

I pull back after a few minutes, to look at him. I take in the yellowing bruises on his cheeks and neck, and the long streaks his tears have left on his face. Another starts making it's way down to his chin, but I stop it with a kiss. I taste the salt on my lips, and continue doing this until he wipes my own tears away with his fingers. Even after all of the torture he went through, they still caress my cheeks softly.

I close my eyes in bliss, leaning farther into him. We fall back onto the pillows, and we turn onto our sides to look at eachother. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me right up against his hard-muscled chest.

"I could stay here like this forever," he says, leaning his forehead down to rest against mine.

We stay like that for a few more seconds until he whispers, "So you'll allow it?"

We both smile, remembering the time he said that before, on the roof of the place we stayed in the Capitol before the Quell. He really _does_ remember everything.

"I'll allow it," I say.

Peeta kisses me, and I swear it's like all of the terrible things that have happened to me, with the Hunger Games, and the Quarter Quell, happened for a reason. It's like we were both forced into the arenas, and into our worst nightmares, just so that we can be lead together.

Being here in Peeta's arms, I feel a new appreciation for the suffering. Because with it, came this.

**This turned out better than I thought it did, considering I was like half-asleep when it was written XD Fanfiction keeps you up at night (er...in the morning?) :/ **

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN! **

**Review, please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! We get to see Katniss' soft side! I was kind of hoping to see some more of that in Mockingjay, but oh well. We can see it now :)  
****And I know, I know, I said this was going to be a one-shot. And I said it pretty firmly, too ;P But I've changed my mind after some of my super cool reviewers (*cough, TheSoggyBug, cough*) convinced me to continue. Thanks for everyone else that reviewed, too. You guys are the best!  
***** And in case anyone noticed, I _have_ changed my pen name. ***

That night, it's not my nightmares that wake me. I remember falling asleep contently, with Peeta's arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and my head resting on his chest. But that's not how I wake up.

A fist makes contact with my cheek, and I yelp, jumping awake. I'm still half-asleep, so I'm not able to move away fast enough before I receive another blow, this time to my nose. I throw the covers off of me and splatter myself against the wall, away from my attacker. My eyes have watered up from the pain in my nose, and I can feel warm liquid running down my face and into my mouth.

I wonder if someone has broken into our room, but realize a moment later that that couldn't have been it. Peeta is much too light of a sleeper; he would have waken up almost immediately, no matter how quiet the intruder was. Then what-

"I'll kill you."

My heartbeat quickens, and my eyes dart back towards the bed, where the voice came from. All I can see is darkness.

"You're a murderer, Katniss Everdeen," the voice growls, sending chills of fright down my spine. "It's about time you get a taste of your own medicine."

"Who are you?" I demand. I somehow manage to keep my voice strong and unwavering.

I hear a click, and the nightstand light turns on. Peeta is poised on the bed, positioned so that he would would be able to leap off at any moment and get to me in a mere second. His expression is filled with the most hatred and loathing that I can feel it burning into my skin.

My eyes close for a moment, feeling completely miserable. I realize how ridiculous I'd been. Ridiculous to think that, after everything I've been through, I'd be lucky enough to have Peeta back the way he was before. Things just aren't ever in my favor.

When I open them again, he's still glaring at me, but he isn't moving towards me, much to my surpirse. I thought that he'd have tried to strangle me again by now. Or at least _something_. He's just crouched there, looking at me.

"Peeta," I say softly. "Snap out of this. It isn't you-"

His eyes flash, and I catch a glimpse of black in them. I can't even see the blue anymore. "It isn't me?" he yells. "Stop playing tricks on me, I'm done with it! I'm done with _you_!"

I take a step forward, wanting to reach out to him, to comfort him. What's happening isn't his fault; it's the Capitol's, much like all of the other catastrophic things that have happened to us. I take one, two, three steps forward, and he doesn't move. His body is so tense that I can see his muscles exposed through his t-shirt. Despite the horrendous situation, I blush.

"Don't come any closer, mutt," he growls. I flinch, and the dull ache in my chest becomes harder to ignore.

I don't have much time to defend myself before Peeta throws himself off of our bed and shoves me back against the wall. Hard.

The wind is knocked out of me, and I struggle, trying to breathe again and free myself of his tight grip at the same time. I come close, but Peeta is much heavier than I am, and to be honest, a lot stronger. So each time that I manage to get at least a foot away from the wall, he shoves me back against it.

Peeta leans in menacingly. His beautiful blue eyes have turned to a copper black, and even the golden specks have dissapeared. My heart drops, because along with those, the tenderness is gone, too, leaving only harshness.

I focus on remembering the way we were before we fell asleep, so that the memories of right now aren't burned into my brain forever.

**_~Flashback~_**

_"I was so worried about you," I say quietly. "I didn't know if we'd get to you on time."_

_Peeta looks down at my hands, and I follow his gaze. They're shaking, like the rest of me, as I try to hold myself together. I shouldn't be the one shaking, not after everything that he's gone through. He's the one that went through the most pain. __Thinking of his torture makes me even more upset; I can only imagine the horrific things that President Snow did to him, on top of the attempt at hijacking. There's one thing that I _can_ be grateful for, though: that he didn't succeed._

_He takes my hands in his own and rubs light circles into them, soothing me just like all of those nights on the train and in the Capitol. "I knew you would," he says, smiling lightly. "You're Katniss Everdeen."_

_"That's not always such a good thing," I say. My voice breaks, despite my efforts._

_He moves so that he's facing me directly, and gently pushes me back. I fall back into the pillows and turn my face to the side, unable to meet his eyes. He lies down on top of me, resting his elbows beside my head so that he isn't putting all of his weight on me._

_He kisses the side of my face, and whispers, "You know that's not true."_

_I don't answer him, because I know my voice will fail me again. Instead, I turn my face back around so that the next time his mouth comes down, it lands on my own. He kisses me carefully, like he's afraid to break me if he makes one wrong move. I, on the other hand, pull him as close to me as I can. As our kisses become more heated, I tangle my fingers in his wavy, soft blond hair and let him explore along my jaw._

_"I love you." _

_Peeta freezes, and snaps his head up towards mine. His face reflects the shock I am feeling myself. _Did I really just say that outloud?_ I think. It had been running through my head, but I hadn't meant to say it, not yet._

_"What did you just say?" he breathes. His blue eyes are wide._

_I blush. "I said... I love you."_

_I try to look away again, my cheeks flaming, but he forces me to look at him. He's practically bursting with joy, and I can't help but smile back. After all, he's just gotten the girl he's been in love with for years - the girl he's been to hell and back with._

_"I love you, too," he says. "I've wanted to tell you for a long time."_

_"I know. And now you can, whenever you want."_

_Peeta pecks my cheek teasingly. "Expect it often." _

_I grin. "I will. Just promise me that you won't let them take you away from me again."_

_"I promise."_

**_~End of flashback~_**

It's crazy how fast that promise was broken.

As I look into his black, remorseless eyes, I can't see the boy I love at all. The only thing I can see is someone who has been hijacked by the Capitol, never to be the same again. I can feel my eyes stinging.

Footsteps are coming down the hallway towards us, momentarily distracting Peeta. He looks away for a quick second, and I try to re-collect my composure. I swallow the lump in my throat and force my tears not to overflow.

The door is thrown open and Haymitch runs in. His eyes have dark purple bags under them from lack of sleep. "What could possibly be going on in here at four o'clock in the morning?" he demands. He catches sight of Peeta pinning me against the wall and me still trying to catch my breath.

His expression barely changes. If anything, he looks exasperated. "Alright, Peeta. Let her go," he says. "It's time to go back to the doctors."

"No! You can't take me back there!" Peeta yells.

"I have no choice-"

Haymitch's words are cut off by the door being thrown open again and two men walking in. They each hold a syringe in hand, their expressions fierce as if they are about to go off to war. Peeta shoves me away from him, and I fall sideways into the bedside table. A sharp pain and warm liquid tells me that I am bleeding just above my hip, but I ignore it. The two men advance on Peeta, and he tries to fight them off. It's no use; these men look like they've been doing this for decades (and they have the wrinkles to prove it).

The younger one of the two finally manages to hold Peeta long enough to stab a syringe into his forearm. Peeta cries out, and his eyes start to droop.

"Everything will be alright, sweetheart." Haymitch has appeared by my side, and is watching the scene with sorrowful eyes.

I don't answer him. I can only watch as the two men lift an unconscious Peeta onto a stretcher and push it out of the room.

**Taadaaaaa! I was planning on putting this up a while ago, but I had a really bad writer's block. **

**REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I wish I could have written this sooner... stupid school... :/ Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted! And yes, this one is a filler.**

I have about two seconds to stare at the closed door before more doctors are infront of me. They talk to me, ask me questions, move their hands infront of my face. But all I can do is continue to stare at the door that Peeta was taken through. All I can do is wonder what I ever did wrong to deserve this, for _Peeta_ to deserve this.

A familiar looking face snaps her fingers infront of my eyes, and says, "She's gone into shock."

I stare at her, letting my eyes wander over her graying hair and sleep-deprived eyes. My mother continues to try and get any kind of response from me, but why should I? What's the point of acknowledging the doctors, when my life is falling apart again?

I don't move from my uncomfortable position on the floor. Even my eyes are unmoving.

So this is what it feels like to be in shock? To me it just feels like I've run into a wall, or gotten punched in the chest, right where my heart is.

As the pain catches up to me, I double over and tumble into my mother. She catches me right before I do a face-dive into the hardwood floor, but she can't stop the broken cry that escapes my lips. I wrap my arms tightly around my chest as if I can squeeze out the pain, but I have no such luck. In fact, it increases by the second, getting more and more unmanageable. My mother whispers things to me, that Peeta's fine, that everything will be alright. But who is she to tell me this, after all of the years she did nothing to save me from all of my other fears and worries? All of those years, when I'd needed her most, and she'd left me alone.

"I don't need your comfort, Mother," I sob. "Leave me alone."

She flinches, and backs away with tears of her own in her eyes.

"Take her to the hospital wing. Sedate her if you have to. Just do it," she instructs the others. She turns back around to look at me before she walks out through the door, and her expression is filled with so much remorse that I have to turn my head away.

Through my tears, I can see a blur of doctors approaching me. I don't bother fighting them off; I just wait for the needle to go into my arm, for the pain to fade into nothingness.

...

When I wake up, I'm lying on a hospital bed. My side has been stitched and wrapped up, and I can hardly even feel it anymore. My nose also feels a lot better. Luckily, it's not broken, so I don't have to have a stupid brace in the middle of my face.

I'm also wearing another hospital gown. The only times I've worn these things have been after near-death experiences, so naturally, they aren't something that I can say I like to have on.

A nurse approaches my bed and cuts off my train of thought.

"How are you feeling? Physically, I mean," she adds hastily.

"Fine... Can I leave?"

"Not yet. Your side has been stitched up, and your other injuries are very minor, but you're going to need to stay here so that we can be rest assured that you won't do anything too reckless."

I roll my eyes. Katniss Everdeen, doing anything reckless? Never.

The nurse sits down at a computer near my bed, and starts typing away. She asks me if I have a headache, if I feel any pains in my stomach or any other areas, et cetera. I answer her questions somewhat calmly, but after I few minutes I just can't take it anymore.

"What happened to Peeta?" I ask.

The nurse stops what she's doing on the computer and turns around to look at me. She takes a deep breath, as if she needs to plan in her head what she's about to tell me, and says, "Peeta wasn't completely recovered when he came to see you last night. His drugs were just beginning to wear off when he somehow managed to sneak out of our hospital's Specialty Center, so he was still on the verge of being taken over by the venom. I don't want you to worry, Katniss, so I'm going to tell you right now that he will be alright. We just need to wait for all of the tracker jacker venom to completely leave his system. He's only been here a few days, after all."

I feel all the breath that I had apparently been holding in woosh out. That was exactly what I needed to hear, because it means that I don't need to be afraid of losing him again. In the last two days I've gone from thinking I've lost him, to thinking I've gotten him back, to thinking I've lost him. We've both had so much emotional trauma lately that I needed to hear this news of reassurance.

"Okay, thanks," I tell her. And I really mean it. "When can I see him?"

She thinks for a moment. "That's not really something I can answer. For now, just get some rest. We'll come and tell you when he's well enough for visitors."

I agree somewhat grudgingly. After all, I've waited long enough to have him back.

Once she's gone, I try to fall back asleep, but whenever I come close, images of Peeta all alone fill my head. I worry that he thinks I've abandoned him, or that he remembers what happened and is going insane with guilt. I know that he'll be beating himself up about it, especially when he finds out that he injured me, so I decide that I can't stay here in this hospital room while he's somewhere else. He needs to know that I'm not mad at him.

I throw the blankets off of me and tip-toe over to the door in nothing but a thin gown and socks. I press my ear against the door to make sure I can't hear anyone on the other side. There's nothing, so I take my chances and slowly creak it open. The lights in the hallway are out, and I take that as a signal that it's night time.

At first I don't know which way to turn, but I let my instincts take over, and go right. I only have to walk for a few minutes before I can make out a sign that says 'Specialty Center' just above two wide doors. I approach it cautiously, even though I know that I'm the only one in the hallway.

Once I open the door, I'm in a large lobby. There's a big area closed off with glass on the left side, and I assume that that's where all the files and information is kept. Since I have absolutely no idea which room Peeta is in, I head over there first.

Just like I predicted, the door is locked. But nothing as small as a locked door will stop me from getting the information I need to find Peeta. The more time I spend here, the more time he'll be alone, and I hate to think of that.

I stick my nail into the slot and twist.

_Click._

Smiling proudly, I open the door and go over to the filing cabinet. I scan over all of the names in _M _until I find _Mellark, Peeta_.

My heart drops to my stomach, and I stop breathing. Because next to his name, is the word '_terminated.'_

**Ah! :O Cliffhangers...**

**Don't forget to review!**


	4. Chapter 4

I literally can't breathe. All of my breath has left my body, leaving me doubled over, trying to regain it but unable to. I take in short, quick gasps, and I seem to be getting _just_ enough air to not pass out.

_Terminated, terminated, terminated, terminated, terminated._

I see the word, printed in small black letters on white paper, over and over again in my head. The image won't leave.

I drop to my knees and curl into a fetal position. I lie on the rough carpet, staring at the tiny circles the design makes. In my miserable faze, I memorize the entire pattern without really meaning to - the way the gray swirls intercept eachother to give a dizying, kaleidoscope impression. I concentrate on the floor, and only the floor, so that I don't vomit.

Too late. As soon as the thought passes through my brain, I snap out of my frozen state and start puking. I empty what feels like my entire stomach all over the floor of the office. Then I start laughing. Crazed, malicious sounds escape me as I stand up and smash all of the computers to the floor. The smashes and crashes of the equipment being destroyed fills me with pleasure as I realize that it blocks out the horrifying thoughts passing through my head. I continue to demolish everything, but I eventually run out of things to smash. I start to hear the words again, so I start screaming. I scream louder than I ever have before, not caring who can hear me or how much strain is being forced onto my throat.

I don't hear them when they enter. My own screams block them out, but I can still feel the strong arms picking me up and trying to cover my mouth. I bite the person's hand. In the second I stop screaming, I hear their voices.

Haymitch. Plutarch. Finnick. Gale.

There are also some people that I don't know, but I can tell that the person who is restraining me is Gale. Only he has that unmistakable scent of forest wherever he goes, and I'm pretty sure he is even more muscular than Finnick.

My throat feels like there's a flame licking up it, so I stop screaming for the time being. When I open my eyes, everyone is staring at me in shock and worry.

"What the hell happened to you?" Haymitch demands, quickly followed by the others. I look around the room, and burst into tears.

I'd tried for too long not to think about it, but now I am. And it's choking me more than it did when I first saw the word. I cry and choke out Peeta's name into Gale's t-shirt as some invisible force squeezes the life out of heart. The pain becomes too much, and I drift into unconciousness.

...

When I wake, there's a glowing light at the foot of my bed.

"Hello, Katniss." The voice seems to be coming from the light.

"Peeta?" I ask. "Is that you?"

The glowing figure floats - yes, _floats -_ closer to me, and stands over my bed. He's so bright that I can barely see him, but I can make out the wavy blond hair and handsome features.

"Of course it's me, love," he says.

My eyes fill with tears, and I stammer, "I thought you were dead."

"Only in their dreams. You know I'd never really leave you, Katniss. I love you."

He reaches his hand out to me, and I go to grab it, to take it in my own and feel his warmness again. But before I can make contact with it, his hand is leaving me, going farther and farther away from the bed. I call out his name in desperation, but it's too late - another silouette has entered the room. My eyes start stinging as the unmistakable scent of blood and roses reaches me.

"Katniss Everdeen." His voice is penetrating with harshness and amusement.

I cry out hopelessly as he drags Peeta's shining figure farther and farther away from me. Peeta tries to yell out my name, but President Snow smashes his hand against his mouth, cutting off his abillity to form coherant words.

But after everything that Peeta and I have been through, it's my job to protect him. I can't let anybody else hurt the boy with the bread.

I fly out of the covers and try to jump out of the bed, but there is some kind of invisible barrier that holds me back. I'm locked on this bed, unable to do anything as President Snow terrorizes me.

"Did you really think you could beat me?" he laughs. Peeta's glow is reflecting off of President Snow's face, showing me even more detail of his gruesome Capitol features. "You're just like all of the others, Katniss. Easy to break. Have you ever realized that if I were to put out the flame that keeps you going, keeps you fighting, you wouldn't be The Girl On Fire anymore?"

"You can't," I tell him. "Nothing will stop me from killing you now, Snow."

"Oh, then I suppose you won't be too dissapointed if I do, then."

All of a sudden, Peeta starts to become more and more bright. His face contorts in pain as the light - that I realize now is coming from his chest - becomes blinding. I'm forced to squint my eyes as his glow spreads farther and farther out until it can no longer hold itself. Just like an elastic band, the light pushes out farther in one final burst, and then Peeta's form explodes entirely.

"_No!" _I scream. "_Peeta!" _

What looks like gold glitter falls lightly to the floor, as if it hadn't just been a boy's body. I scream and bang on the barrier holding me on the bed, wanting to kill President Snow in the most painful way possible for what he's just done to Peeta. My rage increases with each millisecond that passes, but President Snow only laughs delightedly at the crazy girl infront of him - at me.

"You said your fire couldn't be extinguished?" he says. "You're wrong."

...

The commosion in the room woke me up. I'm startled when I wake, having been sure that everything that just went on in my head wasn't a dream. It must have been more than that.

Nurses and doctors crowd around my hospital bed, checking my tubes and pressing buttons on the equipment. I stare at them in wonder, wondering if I'm hallucinating. Surely these people don't really have purple beards or wings growing from their ears. They flutter around me like bees, even making the sound effects. Or am I just imagining it?

"Increase her medicine intake, Thelma," says one of the nurses. I look to her on time to see a silver cloud appear over her head. On top of the floating cloud, there is a shining city. The buildings are all sensationally large with sparkling lights; the place seems familiar to me, but I'm not sure how.

Mesmorized, I move my eyes to look at my arm with the IV in it. Light blue liquid passes through the tubes and into my arm, and I feel a tingling sensation as it passes all the way up. I giggle as my head becomes more dazed and my thoughts less manageable.

Time goes by slowly now, and I begin to wonder where I am - who I am, even. No one that I see gives me even the slightest feeling of déja vu. I know that it's only the drugs that are making me forget, but in this state of complete obliviousness, I feel happy. For some reason I know that the life I'm actually leading is one that always has me either worried or terrified - never safe. But here, without anything awful to be thinking about, I'm at peace.

But eventually, my thoughts start clearing up. Random memories come back to me; memories of my mother, Primrose, the Hawthornes, my father, even. But along with those come the real things that have kept me up at night for years; starvation, poverty, death, the Capitol... the Hunger Games. I close my eyes and try to block it out, but it's impossible. Blood and fire and pain explodes into my brain, and I start to shake uncontrollably. I suddenly wish that I had some kind of salvation here with me, something here that can calm me down right now.

_Peeta._

The name is whispered in my head, and an image appears along with it. A blond haired, blue eyed boy with handsome features and broad shoulders. Peeta. The boy who was with me through everything, the boy who saved my life so many times and showed me what it feels like to truly love someone. Also the boy who showed me how it feels to love someone unconditionally and have them ripped from your arms.

My memories of the last couple of days flood back to me in a sudden burst, and I gasp. The nurse seated next to my bed notices my sudden change in expression and lurches out of her seat.

"No," I whisper. "No, no, no, no, no."

My Peeta, my boy with the bread, gone. Ripped away from me like so many other things. I burst into tears again, and the nurse calls in for backup. But no amount of drugs can block out the pain this time, because it pierces every part of me like daggers. I rip the tubes from my arms and get out of bed. The nurse tries to stop me, but it's too late.

I've already run out the door.

...

**I am _so_ sorry for the wait! You have no idea how busy I've been :( But trust me, I've been dying to get this written. I hope that this ties you guys down for a little while longer, but I will definitely have some time for fanfiction over the holidays. Just in case I don't before Christmas, MERRY CHRISTMAS! I love each and every one of you that have reviewed this story, because I've gotten far more than I could've ever imagined. Thank-you guys _so _much, and please continue to do so! :3**


	5. Chapter 5

I don't pause while I'm running. The directions must have been engraved into my head somehow, because I know exactly which direction I'm going. Footsteps are pounding behind me, but I'm far ahead of them; I'm much faster. I sprint through the hallways, making turns at all the right places. In just a few minutes I've reached Peeta's section of the hospital wing: the Specialty Center.

Seeing workers still cleaning up the office worries me a little bit; I don't have the time to get arrested for destroying all of their files and equipment. There must have been decades of information on those computers, and I smashed them all. Even the cabinets and boxes have been thrown around and broken.

The footsteps behind me are coming closer, so I start running again. Luckily, none of the other workers see me. I can only imagine how astounded they'd be, their very own Mockingjay running through the hospital with bedhead - which I'm too afraid to look at - and a hospital gown with socks. I even _feel _crazy.

I have every right to be going more than a little bit crazy, though. After everything I've been through, finding out that Peeta is gone was the last straw. It's like standing on the very edge of a tall building just waiting for something to shove you over the edge. That something has just done it, sending me falling.

"There she is! Get her!"

I don't look behind me to see who it is. I sprint past doors, glancing quickly at the names that are labeled. Peeta's doesn't come up until the end of the longest hallways, so when I throw open his door, I'm panting.

My lips are just forming his name when my breath is cut short. Inside the room, there are clothes on the floor that I recognize as some of Peeta's, and there's even a sketch pad on the bedside table. But the bed itself is completely empty. It's even been remade, as if people want to cover up the fact that it was ever slept in.

"She went into that room!"

I slam the door shut and search desperately for a lock. But who in their right mind would put one on the inside of a door for 'special' patients? It doesn't surprise me that there isn't one, but it would have been extremely helpful. I grab the closest chair to me and shove it under the handle, keeping them out for the time being.

I know that I've trapped myself.

I, Katniss Everdeen, two time victor of the Hunger Games, has just closed herself into an inescapable room with enemies on the other side, just waiting for me to come out.

I can hear them trying to figure out what to do, how to get the door to open. Someone manages to put two and two together and goes to get something to shove it open. I don't know exactly why I had to come here, but maybe to convince myself that it had all been a dream and that I would run in to find Peeta asleep quietly on his bed. Unfortunately, this is reality, and I have lost him forever.

The pain hits me like a knife to the chest again, and I double over, clutching Peeta's shirt in my hands. I bring it to my face and inhale his sweet scent, needing to commit it to memory. I don't ever want to forget anything about him, including the amazingly pleasant smell of baking and freshness.

The door is thrown open, and I expect to see nurses and District 13 workers coming at me, maybe with syringes.

What _do _I see, though, surprises me almost too much to save myself.

About a half a dozen large men and women with black masks and body suits charge through the door, knocking over anything in their path to get to me. Reflexively, I drop Peeta's shirt and grab the chair closest to me. I guess being the most wanted rebel in the history of Panem has prepared me for a moment like this, because when they attack, I'm not afraid. I take down two of them in my first swing, and duck right on time to miss being slashed with a dagger.

A dagger. These people have real weapons.

I have nothing good to fight them off with, especially because my crappy chair has just split in two after I slammed it over another's head. I'm thankful that the nurses have taken the time to dress me in underclothes, as well, because my hospital gown is flying up repeatedly.

I punch one of the masked figures straight in the face, and hear a loud crack as his nose is broken. He cries out in pain and falls to the ground, his hands over his face.

Four down, two left. The last two come at me, and I barely have time to fight back before the woman catches me from behind and tries to tie my hands together. Before she gets the chance, her eyes widen and she sprays blood straight into my face. She falls to a heap on the floor, a trident sticking from her back.

A trident can only mean one thing.

"Duck!"

I drop to the ground and hear the discusting, wet sound of a knife hitting skin - the sound that has haunted me for months. The last man takes his last few seconds of his life to rip the knife from his chest and collapse in a pool of his own blood.

I bend over, hands on my knees, as I try to catch my breath. My imagination conjures up a the exact sound of a canon right as the man's eyes lose all of the life in them.

_Bang. _As the last few minutes catches up to me, I spin around to gawk at Finnick.

"What... just happened?"

He shakes his head. "I have no idea."

...

Finnick and I don't have much time to spare before the others start to regain consciousness.

"What are we going to do with them?" I ask.

"Well first," he says, "we need to find out who they are." He approaches a random woman and pulls the mask off of her face. Her violet skin and dark makeup startles us.

"No," I whisper. "They can't be."

But the more masks we remove, the more evidence we get.

"They are," Finnick says quietly.

"But..." I'm rendered speechless.

Finnick tells me to look away as he kills off two more. He leaves a couple of them alive for questioning. When he's tied them up, he comes to stand next to me. I look up at him with wide eyes, and see that his are just the same. For once, Finnick Odair looks truly afraid. "You were just attacked by Capitol citizens," he says, taking a deep breath. "That could only mean one thing."

I nod. "The Capitol has found a way into District 13."

...

**Just a quick little chappie, because I know the last one seemed a bit short, and it's taken me so long to get updating at all. **

**I know that the end was a bit off-topic (not really involving Peeta being 'terminated'), but I just really needed some kind of filler to make this story move along. Hope you guys liked it, anyway. Review, please!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I was a little afraid that I'd be attacked by a certain somebody *cough, Lana, cough* if I don't update in approximately three days, so here we go :) This one goes out to TheSoggyBug & PeetaMellark'sKatniss, and all of my other '_super cool, super hot' _reviewers! (Sorry, just got a lame Disney song stuck in my head).**

**...**

Finnick and I don't waste any time. He tells me to wait there for a couple of minutes while he leaves to go get Plutarch, and I'm glad. I need some time to collect my thoughts, because these past few days have been leaving a weight so heavy on my shoulders that it feels as if it will collapse at any second.

I try not to look at any of the dead bodies while I'm stuck here alone. I carefully maneuver my way across the room to sit down, trying not to step in any blood with my white socks. It's different seeing blood in the forest, because it isn't as eye catching when it's mixed into the dirt and leaves. Seeing all of this on tiled floors, though... it's easily the most nauseating I've seen, even after both of my Games.

Once I sit down, I let the tears fall. I suddenly wish -again- that I had a certain someone to comfort me right now. But the Capitol has torn every good thing from my life, leaving only darkness, and things only seem to be getting worse.

It's clear to me now how I lost Peeta: these Capitol spies have been in here longer than I'd originally thought. At first, I'd assumed they'd just arrived, having gotten here for a surprise attack. But that must not be right, because it's just too ironic. Plus, the odds have never been in my favor.

I almost laugh bitterly as I remember when Effie Trinket had said that to me, right before everything was thrown upside-down. "May the odds be _ever _in your favor!" she'd squeaked cheerfully. But as lucky as I'd been to have survived this long, the odds are never in my favor. I'm losing everything and everyone I love slowly, one by one.

But Peeta I _refuse _to lose. And the more my memories come back from the drugs, the more I realize that it may have been a trick. It _has _to have been. Because that dream, or hallucination, or whatever it was, seemed much to real. It was almost like Peeta was sending me a message, telling me not to give up on him just yet.

_"You know I'd never really leave you, Katniss. I love you."_

And I immediately believed hiim, because I know that Peeta _wouldn't _leave me.

Not unless he was forced.

...

When Finnick returns with Plutarch, it takes me almost ten minutes of arguing for him to let me stay for the questioning. But I'm obviously not leaving; I'm the Mockingjay, after all. When I'd pointed this out, Plutarch had narrowed his eyes at me and said, "You're going to have to start acting like it."

He was right. I've been breaking down and running around like a madwoman for the past twenty-four hours, when I should be helping with the Rebellion. So I'd agreed, and I was finally allowed to stay.

"Well, now that we've wasted a good ten minutes, I think we should get to the finding-out-who-broke-into-our-headquarters-and-tried-to-murder-Katniss part. Any objections?" Plutarch raises his eyebrows at Finnick and I.

Finnick grins at me wickedly, as if we'd just stolen candy from a baby. "Nope!" he says.

"Good." Plutarch goes over to the two captives and removes their masks. Just as we'd seen before, they had all of the Capitol features. The man had shining silver hair and eyebrows, and his skin was tainted an ugly orange color. His face drooped to one side, as if he'd had plastic surgery that had gone horribly wrong. The woman, on the other hand, wasn't as discusting as most that I've seen. Her skin was a very light purple, and she wore makeup that actually went quite nicely with it, considering it wasn't her natural skin tone. Her hair was light brown with specks of purple in it, and her features were delicate. She obviously hasn't tried to change her face through surgery, because I can still tell that she has some natural beauty.

Plutarch raises his fist as if he's about to punch one of them awake, but before he can snap it forward, the woman's eyes flutter open. They're also purple, weirdly enough.

"Gah!" she yelps. She starts to squirm around in her bindings, trying to free herself.

"Not gonna happen," I say.

Her eyes turn to slits when she sees me standing over her, completely unharmed. I really hope that I still look as intimidating in a hospital gown, but I kind of doubt it. I glare at her to keep my face harsh, at least.

It must work a little, because she shrinks back a bit. Or she could just be figuring out that she won't be getting back home any time soon.

Plutarch takes another step closer. "So, start talking."

She stares at him icily, then laughs. "Right. Over my dead body."

"It will be if you don't," he shoots back, pulling out a gun and pointing at her to prove his point.

"You don't scare me," she tells us.

I roll my eyes. This woman is seriously stupid. "We should, considering we have you tied up with a gun pointed at your head. Just tell us how you got into District 13, and what for."

"I thought you were smarter than that, Katniss Everdeen. We obviously came for you. Getting a hold of Mellark was just a bonus," she sneers.

My face pales. She notices, and laughs even more. "Yes, I suppose that it was a _real _bonus. He's what holds you together, isn't he? Oh, what a shame it would be if the Mockingjay lost her sanity."

Finnick doesn't hesitate before snapping his arm forward and punching her right in the side of the face. There's a satisfying crack, and she winces. Hard.

"Where did they take Peeta?" he demands.

Her eyes watering a bit from the pain, she snaps, "How should I know? Last I saw, he was being dragged away by some of my co-workers. But looks like you won't be getting any answers from them either, considering you've wasted your time being here instead of running after _them_."

I want to close my eyes in frustration, but I don't. I need to stay composed so that she doesn't see how much pain this is causing me. My protectiveness over the people I love is definitely my fatal flaw, but I can't let her know that any more than she already does. It would definitely cost me later, even though she'll most likely die here.

An alarm starts going off in the hallway, indicating that somebody has pressed an emergency button somewhere. I have no idea what exactly the alarm trigurs, but I'm hoping that it will somehow save Peeta, keep him here in District 13 instead of back in President Snow's discusting, blood-thirsty hold.

Plutarch pays absolutely no attention to the blaring lights or the alarm buzzing. "Dragged away?" he growls. "What'd they do to him before taking him away?"

She smiles, as if reminiscing the better times. "Hmm... I'm sure Katniss will love to hear about this."

I clench my jaw and cross my arms over my chest. "I will, eh?"

"Oh, definitely. It was quite fun, actually. You should have seen how scared he was. I guess he had drugs or medication of some sort that were just starting to wear off, so he had absolutely no chance of fighting us off. We held him down while we taunted him, telling him about how we'd kill Katniss. And I've got to say, it was pretty impressive how quickly you guys made the tracker venom leave him. He looked absolutely horrified!"

Finnick and Plutarch don't bother holding me back as I spring forward and punch the grin straight off her face. She's asked for it, telling us all of that.

I yell profanities at her as I strike her over and over again, watching as blood starts trickling down from her nose. When I see that she's had enough for now, I step back from her. She turns her face back around to look at me, and I just can't take it anymore. I spin around so that she can't see my face, and try to calm myself down.

I take deep breaths, trying to control my breathing, but it doesn't seem to be working. I can hear Plutarch trying to get more answers from her as Finnick pulls me away for a second.

"Katniss," he whispers. "It's okay. She's probably lying, trying to break you."

I close my eyes. "I've already been broken, Finnick."

He wraps an arm around my shoulders comfortingly and wipes my tears away. I'm so grateful that Finnick has found his way into our lives. He's like the older brother that I never had, always making sure I'm okay.

After a few moments of silence, I whisper, "I need him so badly."

"I know. Which is why I just pressed the button for the alarm."

I gape at him. "That was you? What does it do?"

His mouth twitches at the corners as he tries not to smile. "It puts the entire District into lockdown and closes all exits. Those filthy Capitol spies aren't taking Peeta anywhere. They're probably running around the hallways at this very moment like terrified mice. That is, if they haven't already been captured by our guards. Which I'm guessing they have."

I almost collapse in relief at his words. "They haven't taken him away? You're sure?"

"Absolutely positive."

"Then why did his files in the hospital say he was dead?"

His eyes widen. "Those bastards changed his papers?"

I nod, my eyes filling up again at the memory.

But Finnick's expression surprises me. He doesn't at all look sad, as if Peeta really could have been killed. He just looks exasperated, like he can't believe Snow's spies would swoop that low. "They must have done it to send you off the edge, make it easier to get to you. Don't worry, Katniss. He is very much alive."

_Very much alive. _Peeta's alive. Peeta is really alive.

I throw my hands over my mouth as I start to make embarassing choking noises. I'm so relieved to hear this that I can barely stop myself from dancing around in joy. But we have a situation at hand. There are dead bodies of Capitol spies lying around us as we speak, and Plutarch is still trying to get answers out of the only one of them who is conscious. In fact, I'm starting to think that the man is dead after all.

But in this moment, knowing that I haven't lost the boy with the bread, it's like the scary things are non-existent. All I can get through my head is that I haven't lost hope.

"Katniss?"

I look up to find Finnick watching me, smiling.

And this time, I don't have to strain to return it. It comes naturally.

**...**

**I've gotta say, the ending is kind of suckish. Oh well! I hope I got at least a couple of sighs of relief from you guys. Yes, Peeta is very, very alive. Of course I wouldn't kill off such an amazing character! :O**

**Review, please! They make my day! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Stupid writer's block... ****Sorry for the wait! I'll get my butt moving on this story, I promise! More fluffies!**

**...**

Once the workers appear to take away the bodies, a small weight is taken off of my shoulders. Having them gone is a big relief for me; even seeing them from the corner of my eyes was starting to unnerve me more and more. Their blank stares and still bodies remind me too much of the horrors in my life, of all of the deaths I've provoked and seen.

"We can leave now, Katniss. The guards are going to continue the questioning with the woman, and take the others away to be packaged," Finnick tells me, joining me in against the wall of the room.

I grimace. "Packaged? That sounds discusting."

"Yeah, well..." He glares up at the ceiling, as if it holds all of the blame for our troubles. "_They're _discusting. It's not like they deserve anything better."

"True," I say, attempting to throw my discomfort up and away with my shrug.

Finnick and I leave the room and make our way through the hallways, not exactly sure where it is we're going. We make no conversation along the way, and I decide to just trust his sense of direction instead of worrying for once.

Eventually I can't stand the silence. "Finnick, do you know where you're going?" I ask.

"I'm taking you back to your room, like the lovely gentleman I am," he tells me, grinning flirtaciously and raising his eyebrows.

I ignore it. "What about the guards who have Peeta? I need to see him. I can't just sit around in my bedroom, all alone, with nothing to do, and nothing to occupy myself with," I ramble. I start to work myself up, my panic and unease at the thought of sitting in my room, having to feel the walls holding me in like some kind of prison. My claustrophobia increases just by thinking about it.

He looks away uncertainly. "We don't have much of a choice just yet. I'm not exactly sure where they are."

"So you don't even know if he's safe, after all?" I squeak. "What if they got out before you set off the alarm? What if they're on their way to President Snow now, torturing him and gagging him all the way there? What if-?"

Finnick cuts me off, suddenly stopping in his tracks and making me run into his back. He spins around. "You've got to calm down. I know that your head is still a bit... drugged up or whatever, but everything is fine. Peeta is fine."

He continues walking, not waiting to see if I'll listen to him. I don't, of course. How could I possibly calm down after everything? The only way I'll be able to breathe easily again is if Peeta returns to me, safe and unharmed. Anything else will only tie me down for a few seconds before rebounding off of me like a balloon.

When we arrive at my door, Finnick sends me in without another word. I sit on the bed and stare emotionlessly at the carpet, once again memorizing the boring old patterns that are all they can afford here in District 13. I listen to my own breathing, keeping track of it so that my thoughts can't concentrate on anything else.

Suddenly, there's a buzzing noise coming from a speaker in the top corner of the room. I hadn't noticed it before.

"Katniss Everdeen, please report to room 302 immediately," the voice says. It repeats itself monotonously, making sure the message is heard.

I jump from the bed in a second, not wasting any time. I run through the halls as fast as I can, probably increasing my insane-status if anybody sees me. I'm pretty sure I _do _run by people, but I can't really be sure.

The sides of the hallways are a blur to me as I run. I'm only conscious of the view straight infront of me, of the direction that leads me to my destination.

My thoughts are spinning faster than my sprint. My immediate guess had been that Peeta is in that room waiting for me. Naturally, as soon as this thought came into my head, it hasn't left a moment since. My hope is bubbling up inside of me- hope for Peeta's safety, for our reunion, for us to never be seperated from eachother again. All of my fear from the past, oh, I don't know, _two years, _is once again making its way into the pit of my stomach. But I stop myself right then. I am the Mockingjay. I am strong. And nothing, no matter how important, will bring me down right now.

After having the Capitol send in spies for them, my responsibilities have been shoved back into me, reminding me of what I need to do, to be. I can't keep letting myself break down, even if it's about the person I care the most about in the world. If I'm not strong enough for them, for _everyone,_ then the Rebellion won't be successful, and I would have failed more than just myself and the people I care about - I would have failed all of the people of all our districts.

The faces of Rue's little siblings automatically flash into my head. I have more than just my family and friends to care for now; I have them as well, even if they don't realize how much they mean to me. I was never someone who liked to owe anything, but this time, the depth of Rue's sacrifice will not be forgotten, and so neither will the lives of her family.

I skid to a hault infront of a black door. _'Room 302'_ is written in bold silver letters just over the door frame, making me wonder if this room holds more importance than all of the others - its appearance is more fancy, after all.

I throw it open, and let my eyes explore the room quickly. They immediately fall on the figure against the far wall, his blond head resting on his knees exaustedly.

"Peeta?" I choke. His head snaps up, and I see his amazing blue eyes staring back at me, very much alive.

He doesn't have time to stand up before I've thrown myself at him, sobbing into his t-shirt. "I th-thought you were d-dead," I cry. My voice sounds broken and worn-out, not anything like my own.

Peeta shifts so that I'm seated right on his lap, my face in the crook of his neck. "I know," he tells me softly. "They told me everything."

He cups my face in his hands, gently as ever, and kisses each of my tears off of my face. The relief that floods through me at that moment is almost excruciatingly powerful. It could have knocked me straight over, or the breathe right out of me, if I wasn't here in Peeta's arms, where I feel the most whole. I can feel his muscles through his shirt, lean and well-earned, and I feel more protected than I have in weeks. I know that, just like myself to him, he won't let anything happen to me.

"Don't cry, love," he whispers. But tears are filling his own eyes.

I bite my lip and try to stop, but it's a lot harder than it looks. The beautiful way he's just addressed me has made me want to cry harder.

My heart feels as if it's about to explode. I lean in closer to him, wanting to disappear entirely under his skin. "I love you," I say. The first time I'd told him, I'd meant it. But this... this kind of love was unlike anything. I've never loved him more than I do now, and I know that I won't ever love him any less.

He smiles down at me, kissing my tears away once again. Suddenly, with his lips against my cheeks, I feel a hunger I haven't felt since the Quarter Quell - a hunger for the boy with the bread, to kiss him until he feels dizzy.

That's exactly what I do.

I wrap my fingers around Peeta's shirt collar and pull his face forward toward mine. We're both still crying, lost the uncontrollable emotions pulsing through us, but it doesn't stop me. My lips brush his, gently at first, and once again, I feel like I'm about to explode. Everywhere our skin meets, it feels as if sparks are literally flying off of us. In the midst of our kissing, I imagine fireworks going off right over our heads, a beautiful explosion of pinks, blues, and oranges. The perfect mixture of colours that turn out to look like those of a sunset, the one thing that doesn't remind me of anything but Peeta.

He breaks away first. I stare at him as we both catch our breath, taking in the features I've tried to memorize so many times, but it seems impossible to catch such perfection without photographing it. Even then, it wouldn't be able to compare to now.

He looks up at me, his blue eyes piercing mine so intensely that I feel light-headed. At first, I think they're filled with love, adoration, and maybe longing. But after a moment, I realize that they're filled with something else entirely. Guilt. Pain. Fear.

"Peeta?" I ask softly. "What's wrong?"

He pulls away from me, leaving my skin feeling icy and myself feeling confused. He lifts his face to the ceiling, his chest rising and falling in what I'd thought to be from what we'd just been doing. But no, it's rising and falling from fear. "Katniss... how can you be kissing me?"

I'm taken back, completely confused. "What do you mean?"

His face snaps back down to look at me, and his eyes are glistening again. "How can you kiss me still, after everything I've done to you? After all of the pain I've put you through? You should have left me alone, Katniss! You should have gone to Gale!" he yells. His voice catches at the end of the last sentence, and he falls to his knees, clutching his face in his hands.

Suddenly, I understand exactly what he's feeling. Peeta has always been the most selfless person I've ever known, and now he's feeling so guilty for attacking me those times from the venom that he's asking me to leave him. He's asking me to leave him for Gale, even, something that we both know will never be able to happen.

I crawl over to him on my hands and knees, and remove his hands from his face tenderly. They've left red finger marks, and his tears are leaving sad streaks down his face, too. I hate the Capitol. I hate them for doing this to us, to Peeta.

I take him in my arms and hold him as he sobs into me hair. The sound of his cries pierce me, and before I know it, I'm crying again too.

"We won't let them get away with this, Peeta," I tell him fiercely, tears streaming down my face. "I promise, they'll pay for doing that to you."

"Doing that to _me?_ What about you, Katniss? What about the bruises on your neck, or all of the heartbreak you've had to feel because of me?" he cries. He looks up, his eyes filled with pain.

"It wasn't your fault, Peeta. It was their fault, like everything else." I take his face in my hands and look him straight in the eye. "I don't blame you, and I never will."

He closes his eyes and leans farther into me. I fall onto my back and he quickly follows, lying right ontop of me. "I'm sorry," he whispers, nuzzling my neck.

If he wasn't in so much pain, I might have rolled my eyes. "It's _okay_, Peeta. Really."

He opens his mouth to talk -probably to list some more reasons why I should hate him- but he never gets the chance. I kiss him more fiercely than I ever have, with all of the pain I've been feeling because I'd thought I'd lost him. The hunger fills us both again, and without even realizing it, I accomplish exactly what I'd told myself I would: making Peeta dizzy with kisses.

...

**Like I always say, I love each and every one of you that reviews, favorites, and alerts. Please continue to do so!**

**Bonus points for anyone who can tell me which of my stories I got the cheesy "never loved him any more than I do now, and will never love him any less" line from!**

**The magical review button is just _begging_ to be pressed!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Happy Birthday, Lana! And once again, I apologize for my lack of speediness when it comes to updating :/**

_**XXXXXXXXXX**_

_~ I'm running through a field of flowers. Dandelions, to be exact. Their smell fills my nose, natural and almost unnoticeable, and my heart is filled with happiness. Happiness because, like so many other things, these dandelions remind me of nothing but Peeta. They remind me of the day after he gave me the bread, when I looked down to see the first dandelion of spring - to see my first sprout of hope._

_I smile as I'm running, thinking of him. His face fills my thoughts, handsome and smiling, and I can't help but wonder how I got so lucky as to have him as my own. Surely, there are nicer, more beautiful girls all over Panem who would die to be with Peeta, to feel his arms around them, his lips against their skin..._

_To stop myself from frowning, I let loose all of my thoughts and concentrate on running. My speed increases, and I go faster than any human should be capable of, farther and farther into the field of dandelions. I don't question my inhumane abilities, figuring that it must be something the Capitol has given me from my time in their quarters. I also don't wonder where I'm going, because in this moment, nothing matters. I'm lost in my own bliss, with sweet smells filling my nose and the wind in my hair from running. The destination is completely unknown, but my heart tells me that I'm heading towards peace, towards somewhere I can finally be happy. Alone, and happy. All at once._

_I smile again and increase my speed even more. Somehow my breathing is still completely even, as if I haven't been running a hundred miles an hour for who knows how long. I could have been walking down the street I felt that at ease._

_But suddenly, I come to a stop. Fear has begun boiling in the pit of my stomach, but from what? I wonder myself what I'm afraid of, but no one appears to tell me. I'm left here alone, without anybody to tell me where to go or what to run from._

Katniss...

_I spin around in my place. Somebody has just spoken my name, quietly but meaningfully, and I don't know who it is. _

We're coming...

_The voice terrifies me. I know it must be from somebody I know, but I suddenly can't remember who my enemies are. I know that I have them, but their names and faces just don't appear in my mind. It's like I'm stuck in a dark box with no possible way to see what is coming. I can feel eyes on me from somewhere, but there's no one in sight. All I can see is the endless miles of dandelions, yellow and peaceful but at the same time deadly._

_I hear the clicking of a clock, as if someone -or something- is counting down the time until they pounce at me. I have no way to know how much longer I have, but it signifies danger, and danger that will be coming soon._

_My breathing hitches and I fall to my knees. The knowledge that I'm about to be killed renders me to paralysis, and I whimper. _

_In the midst of my terror, my father's insightful words fill my mind: "If you can run, you can hide. If you can hide, you'll always find a way to run. But if you can't do either, you'll become hopeless."_

_I realize now what he meant when he told me that. And if I let myself feel too much fear, I'll become exactly what my father doesn't want me to be: hopeless. There's always light in the midst of darkness, like he also said, and I'm going to find it. _

_Shakily, I stand up again and look around me. Surely, there's some way out of this field. I can't be stuck here forever; it has to end at some point._

_Before I can put too much thought into an escape, a fire breaks out a hundred yards away. I cry out instinctively, wanting to break down and cry as I see dandelions being burnt to ashes. Dandelions that in my heart are the inanimate flowers of Peeta, of the person I love most in the entire world. But now, I can only watch as they're burnt by the flames, diminishing in seconds. _

_"No!" I cry. But it's too late. _

_The fire spreads quickly, coming closer and closer and filling each area I can possibly see, near and far, except for a small circle around me. An invisible force keeps me unharmed, but I almost wish that it hadn't, that it had let me die, too, so that I wouldn't have to know what's coming. I'd rather die quickly (or as quickly as possible when the source is fire) than have to wait it out, knowing that there's nothing left that will save me. _

_I scream for help, for _anyone_, but as expected, nobody comes. I wish I could see Peeta one last time before my end, but I've lost hope of that, too. Even my father's advice can do nothing to save me now. There's nowhere left to run, and the only light I can see is the one that will soon kill me. As the flames break through the invisible barrier, the only thought I can register is, 'I have no hope left.' ~_

With one last scream, I burst awake. My eyes are blurred and wet from my tears, and I'm whimpering softly. My nightmare is still fresh in my mind, and the image of the dandelions being burnt makes me cry harder. The irony of fire being what destroys the dandelions -or Peeta, in my mind- horrifies me. It makes me feel like I am what kills him, because in the real world, I'm known as the Girl On Fire, the one who provided the spark that spread quickly throughout the entire nation.

It all connects back to what is happening in the real world, and I hate it.

"Kahh..." Peeta stirs next to me. My screams must have woken him up once again.

"Peeta?" I choke. My lips are quivering and I feel as if I'm about to split in two. "I need you."

His eyes fly open immediately and take in my shaking form. He doesn't hesiate for one second before taking me in his arms and whispering reasurrances. Once again, it's Peeta doing all of the comforting and me crying like a baby. Not that it hasn't ever been the other way around, but this is pretty typical for us.

"Shhh. It's okay, I'm here," he says, gently holding my face into the crook of his neck. "I'm here."

My body still shakes with sobs, but I feel better with his arms around me, protecting me from any remaining thoughts of the nightmare. I inhale deeply, breathing in Peeta's familiar aroma. An aroma that is filled with so much life that it makes me want to disappear into him completely.

"I love you," I whisper.

I can hear the smile in his voice. "I love you too."

He pulls me tighter against him and kisses the top of my head. The warmth from his lips makes me close my eyes, but I need more. I crave his taste, the feel of his lips on my own.

"Peeta..." I murmur. He lifts my face gently, his eyes crinkling in confusing, asking me what it is that I want. I don't need to tell him; I'll show him. I bring my hands up to rest on his cheeks, and pull his face down towards mine slowly. He responds immediately to me, and soon our lips are on eachother's.

I'm lost in Peeta, lost in my hunger for him. The door could have been thrown open -who knows, maybe it even was- and neither of us would have noticed. I kiss him fiercely, and his arms tighten around my waist.

He's everywhere. He's all I can feel, all I can touch, and all I can think of. Peeta's my everything, and I am his.

We're in the middle of a rebellion, but even this thought barely enters my brain for a second. You'd think that it's because I'm so lost in Peeta's touch, but really, it's because I feel no fear. Snow can bring on his toughest, most dangerous weapons against us, and I still won't feel anything other than protectiveness and a strong love towards this boy, the boy with the bread that has stood by me through it all.

It may be crazy, but after everything Peeta and I have been through, I'm confident that we'll continue to survive, to fight through all of the obstacles thrown our way. Death and pain will surely be in our near future, but it's a future together, and one that won't be broken by any amount of destruction.

Peeta and I are together, and stronger than ever.

**The end.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Please remember that I'm not trying to completely change the events of Mockingjay. This was supposed to somehow fit into the middle of it all, not change everything, so I had to end it at some point.**

**I'd like to thank all of my amazing reviewers/favoriters/alerters that stood by me through this story. I hope you all loved to read it as much as I loved to write it. As an ending gift to the author herself, please leave one last comment :)**

**Thanks,**

**MountainAir**


End file.
